


Blind

by ReservoirCat



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Confessions, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Road Trips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 12:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8207851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReservoirCat/pseuds/ReservoirCat
Summary: The murder husband's road trip into freedom starts with a premature confession and they have to go from there...





	

**Author's Note:**

> The rating may change along the way... ;)

He had him at gunpoint. Finally.

Somewhere along the line Hannibal had made a mistake. Jack hoped as much. He knew this could be set up, a trap for him.

Hannibal, as usual, didn't even seem the slightest bit concerned. That smug bastard. It was making Jack's skin crawl.

"Hello Jack," polite as always, "Good to see you."

"Shut up and put your hands where I can see them."

Hannibal didn't move.

"Where's Graham?" Jack bellowed.

A movement to his left.

"Are we no longer on a first name basis, Jack?" Will asked, way too calmly, and stepped into the beam of Jack's flashlight to stand between him and Hannibal.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?!"

"What does it look like?"

Will looked bad. Dark circles under his eyes, pale, and he had lost a few pounds. From what he had seen at the crime scene Jack knew they both must still be recovering from severe wounds.

"Will..." he tried again, "if you know what's good for you, move."

Will didn't move.

"What is good for me?" He spat, mocking, "You never cared for what's good for me! Only ever saw to what would keep me functioning enough for your purposes." His stare was like ice. His voice had a confidence to it that Jack had never witnessed there before. Even in his cocky moments Will had always seemed fragile, a little on edge.

Will was totally missing the point here. Or was he himself? He knew he had taken a risk with the fake escape but he had had faith in Will's sense of justice. Will wouldn't give that up because he felt let down by him. He wouldn't give that up for some fucked up friendship with a goddamn manipulative, cannibalistic serial killer, would he? Could he have been so wrong about him?

"Will, we can talk this through...", Jack tried but was cut short.

"Hannibal is the only thing good that you brought to me," Will said quietly but with a certainty that sent chills up and down Jack's spine.

Jack watched Hannibal over Will's shoulder. He knew Hannibal well enough to notice the slight change of his expression. Was that surprise? Relieve?

"Hannibal is the only thing I need to thank you for," Will continued. "And if you want to live, you better not harm him or take him away from me."

Jack remembered Abigail's strained voice, muffled through the pantry door and the haze that struggling for your life brought about. In this moment he remembered it clearly. "I only did what he told me," she had said. It gave him hope.

"Will, you don't need to listen to him," I'm here, I'll help you, we'll find a way, he wanted to say. "He is using you."

"Go on, Jack," Will huffed, "Take a good hard look and tell me... What do you see?"

Jack's breath coming out in short bursts was visible in the lamp light. He wanted to tell Will that he was being played, why didn't he know that by now? That he couldn't be serious. That he should think of all the things Hannibal had done, all the damage and pain. That Hannibal must have brainwashed him. That he should come with him. That there was a deal. That he should let him carry on with his job. That it would be okay.

Despite himself Jack's outstretched arm began to shake. Not much, but still visibly. He knew Will could tell.

"I'm exactly where I want to be, Jack."

"No," Jack whispered. He shook his head as Will stretched out his arm behind himself to reach for Hannibal.

"No, Will! This is madness!" He was shouting now.

Hannibal took a step forward and reached for Will's hand.

"No, Jack," Will's eyes never left Jack's, "You know what this is, don't be so blind."

Jack shook his head, defiant. "No, Will." Don't say it, don't say it, please, don't say it.

Will just smiled crooked and a little sadly, "I love him, Jack."

Jack's arm was shaking in earnest now. He felt bile rise in his throat at the look on Hannibal's face, clearly moved and proud - his plan was working, he had Will on his side. What have I done, thought Jack.

Hannibal's face was practically beaming. He only had eyes for Will, who was still shielding him from Jack's gun, close, hands linked. If he fired now, could he kill them both?

He pressed his lips together, straightened his arm - then a hard knock, a flash before his eyes, blackness.

\----- - - -

When Jack came to, his head ached, vision slightly blurred. He tried to blink the fog and dizziness away.

He was... alive.

He felt cool leather beneath his right hand. The left was lifted and cuffed. He looked up. To the headrest of the driver’s seat. He was in the back of his own car. Alone. He could free himself, he realized, if he managed to pull the headrest out. He sat up. Flinched from the onslaught of nausea.

The click of a gun's safety catch. A steel barrel pressed to his temple. He stilled. Glanced sideways until his eyeballs hurt.

"You..." He knew it.

Chiyoh pointed the rifle through the open window.

"That was the last time they let you get this close."

Jack clenched the muscles of his jaw.

"Your right hand." He didn't move. So she pressed a little harder with the barrel. He lifted his hand and at once felt a cuff cut into his wrist as Chiyoh fastened him to the passenger seat's headrest. That complicates things, he thought.

"They are gone and you are going to forget about them."

Jack huffed. I wish! Dear lord, I wish I could!

"The day you find them again is the day you'll die." Chiyoh said flatly. Then the press of the gun was gone. And Chiyoh was gone without a sound.

The silence felt awful.

Why didn't they just kill me?

He knew he'd never rest again.

\----- - - -

Will drove and looked straight ahead, jaw set tightly.

He felt Hannibal's gaze upon him.

He tightened his hands on the steering wheel.

"You, Will Graham, are a cruel man," Hannibal finally said and Will heard reverence and amusement in his voice.

"We need to get miles between us and Jack."

"That shouldn't be a problem. Chiyoh saw to that."

"Still..." Will said but didn't elaborate on all the various reasons for which they should get away from the FBI agent as soon and fast as possible. Hannibal must be aware as experienced as he was in acting against the law.

"You don't want to talk about it," it was a statement. Hannibal sounded concerned.

"Later." Will just said. And as he still felt Hannibal stare at him, he reached across the gearshift to squeeze his hand, gentle but quickly, his eyes never leaving the road, before he gripped the steering wheel again. "I promise, Hannibal."

That seemed to be okay for now. Hannibal leaned back into his seat.

"Try to sleep a bit, if you can." Will said, "I'll need you to take over in a while."

"Your shoulder?"

"Hmm. But it's okay for now," Will reassured, "Sleep."

Hannibal crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared out of the window. Later... He could wait. They had a long drive ahead of them.

In the distance he could see the first glimpse of dawn. Just a thin sliver of red on the horizon. They drove towards it.

He could wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3  
> Please let me know what you think!!  
> 


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